


and four a.m. knows all my secrets

by RocksCanFly



Category: Young Justice (Cartoon), Young Justice - All Media Types
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, F/M, Homosexuality, Humor, Hurt/Comfort, Implied Sexual Content, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Insomnia, M/M, Raquel is basically The Best, Team as Family, We've got it all folks, Will is Tired of Kaldur's Shit, and Kaldur is just Tired, its not explicit or violent but its unwanted, kaldur has sex under duress with vandal savage, so its still non-con and i'm still gonna warn for it, team movie night
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-24
Updated: 2019-02-24
Packaged: 2019-11-04 18:33:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,401
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17903360
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RocksCanFly/pseuds/RocksCanFly
Summary: five beds Kaldur has lied awake in and one where he found rest





	and four a.m. knows all my secrets

**Author's Note:**

> warning for referenced/implied sex-under-duress in part three. nothing explicit, but the scene may be triggering/uncomfortable for some.

_one) the cave_

 

“It’s a classic,” Wally says. “I can’t believe none of you have seen it.”

Artemis punches softly him in the arm, presses an exasperated apology to his cheek at his wounded look. “When would they have, Baywatch? None of them grew up here.”

“Oh.” Wally blushes, busying himself with the controller.

Zatanna and Dick return, large bowls of popcorn cradled in their arms. Dick looks at the scene, sighs. “What did Kid Mouth do this time?”

“Nothing out of the ordinary,” Kaldur replies, helping Zatanna with her bowls. “Is the futon really necessary?”

Artemis shrugs. “There’s not enough space on the couch. Cuddle up, great leader.”

“Are we really watching all three?” M’gann asks, settling with Connor against Wolf at the back of the futon. She accepts the oversized throw Raquel passed her way. “You said they were over two hours.”

“Each,” Connor adds, crossing his arms dubiously.

Zatanna hmms in agreement, eyeing Wally. “Yeah, I don’t know if some people have the attention span for that.”

Wally waves him off. “I have it for this. These are the best!”

Dick nods sagely, taking up a precarious position perched on the back of the couch. “Star Wars is better. But these are the best fantasy.”

Raquel settles in next to Kaldur, pulling Zatanna down next to her. “They’re overrated. And really white. But Legolas is fine as hell, so. Eyecandy.”

Zatanna settles one of the popcorn bowls in her lap as Artemis settles on her other side. “The magic system needs some work. Or at least the movie version. Book version? Much more comprehensive.”

“Would anyone mind subtitles?” Kaldur requests as the overture gives way to the narrative. His English is excellent, but he had an easier time when he could read along. He also doubted anyone the usual empty promises to not talk over the movie would be kept.

Wally leans back to rest between Artemis’s legs as the movie begins. He complies, flicking the controller. “Sorry, forgot.”

“Thank you.”

The first of his team passes out about an hour in. Artemis has been working hard, digging in to her second semester of junior year with an energy she normally reserved for missions. She has her heart set on Stanford, and this was the last semester that really counted.

Zatanna plays with her hair fondly until she, too, drops to sleep. She’s joined in short order by Dick. By the second half of the second movie only Kaldur and Connor remain awake. Connor shoots Kaldur a rueful look, nudging his socked foot against Kaldur’s bare one. “Last ones standing.”

“We are the most resilient of our team,” Kaldur smiles. Raquel has begun to drool a little on his shoulder. He can’t bring himself to mind.

“So, who’s who?” Connor says softly, fixing his attention back to the battle on screen.

Kaldur shifts, careful not to disturb either woman currently napping on his shoulder. M’gann has begun to snore lightly. “Pardon?”

“I think I’m Gimli,” Connor responds. “Dick and Wally are Merry and Pippin. Artemis is Eowyn, no question.”

“Raquel is most similar to Arwen,” Kaldur decides. “Gandalf for Zatanna. She may be the youngest amongst us, but she is the wisest.”

“M’gann?”

Kaldur hums, deciding. “Boromir.”

“Harsh,” Connor responds. He reaches out, strokes a few strands of red away from the bright green of her cheek. His eyes are soft. “Fair. Where does that leave you? Frodo? Aragorn?”

Kaldur shakes his head. “Sam. I think I’d be him, if I could be.”

“Why?”

“He’s loyal. He’s protecting his friend, when no one else will. From dangers no one else will face.”

“So Roy’s your Frodo?”

Kaldur laughs, surprised. It the most amusing image he’s thought of in weeks. “Never tell him that. He’d kill me.”

* * *

  _two) raquel_

“This isn’t working.”

She says it softly, no anger to be found in her voice, in the way she presses her fingers gently against Kaldur’s own as they lie side by side on her bed, sweat cooling as they gaze into the constellations in the stucco.

Kaldur flinches just the same. “I will do better.”

“It’s not that, Kal.” Her voice is soft as the whisper of a blade in a sheath. “You’re trying. You’re trying really hard. And that’s the problem.”

Kaldur slips his palm around hers, squeezes it tightly. “Please.”

Raquel sighs. She squeezes back once, a brief reassurance. Then she pulls away, sitting up on the bed to lean against the headboard. She looks down at Kaldur as he lies flat against the bed. Her eyes are tired. “It shouldn’t be a _job_ , Kaldur.”

Kaldur’s eyes shut, expression smoothing into a calm, blank slate. His ‘reasonable’ face. “It’s not you.”

Raquel snorts. “Obviously,” she says, gesturing to her own naked body, her full breasts and hips and long legs and smooth dark skin. “It’s you.”

The slate remains blank. But there’s a tremble to his voice, a slight hitch in his breath. “I am sorry. I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”

Raquel frowns, nudging his shoulder gently with one foot. “There’s nothing wrong. Don’t ever say that. This—-me—- I’m just not, like, _your_ thing.”

The slate shatters. Kaldur’s calm expression drops, replaced with pinched brows and wide eyes as Kaldur finally turns to look at her. He reaches for her again, grasping the warm comfort of her hand. “Then what is?”

Raquel shakes her head. “No, sorry.” She pulls her hand from his, settling it on his bare shoulder and gripping tightly. She eyes him seriously, mouth a firm line. “I’m here if you need to talk, but I can’t tell you what—who—you’re attracted to. No one can.”

Kaldur curls into himself, arms wrapping around his middle. His fingers dig into the flesh between his ribs. His spine is a curving line of pain against her rumpled sheets. “I _loved_ Tula. I _like_ you.”

The tight grip around his shoulder gentles. Raquel’s hand smooths gently up his next to cup his cheek. She strokes a thumb against the sharp rise of his cheekbone. “There’s more than one kind of love, Kal.” She pauses, chewing her lip as she considers her next words. “What about Roy?”

Kaldur freezes, eyes fixed unseeingly on the lavender wall of Raquel’s bedroom. “Roy?”

Raquel smiles, working her hand back to scratch lightly along Kaldur’s scalp, following the crisp line of his hairline. “I’ve seen the way you look at him. Have you ever thought about it?”

Some of the tension drops from Kaldur’s shoulders. He unfurls, looks over his shoulder up at her. His eyes are uncertain. “It’s not common, in Atlantis.”

Raquel makes a dismissive gesture with her free hand. She leans down, pressing a chaste kiss to Kaldur’s crown. “Beautiful, you’re anything but common. But it’s pretty normal here. And I think I might,” Raquel pauses, uncharacteristically hesitant. “You know. Be into girls. As well as boys, I mean.”

Kaldur turns to face her. “Thank you, for trusting me with this.” He bites his lip, sitting up to lean against the headboard beside her. He braces his elbows on his raised knees, looking down at the sheets. Silence stretches between them, heavy but not uncomfortable. “How do you tell?”

Raquel smiles, eyes distant and soft. She touches her lips with one hand, tracing a memory. “Trying it is a good step.”

* * *

_three) initiations_

 

“It would be best if your father did not learn of this,” Savage says as he offers him a damp washcloth. The other man has already cleaned himself in small bathroom adjacent to Kaldur’s temporary quarters. Having finished this final ordeal in his initiation, Kaldur will be assigned a permanent room aboard the Manta Flyer.

“Was he not required to fulfill the same duties I have filled?” Kaldur asks quietly, accepting the damp cloth. He makes no move to use it, retreating further under the false security of the sheets. As if there was anything that he had that the other man has not seen, not touched.

Savage laughs, full throated. It shakes the muscular bulk of his chest, wrinkles the corners of his eyes. It was the most unnerving thing he’s done so far.

Kaldur’s fingers tighten around the cloth in an effort not to flinch as Savage settles again on the bed, leaning in to grasp Kaldur’s chin gently between his thumb and forefinger. Kaldur doesn’t attempt to fight it--the grip is gentle now, but he knows just how quickly it could turn harsh, possessive and controlling.

“Your father did not require the same tests of loyalty as you, Kaldur’ahm,” Savage rumbles, leaning in for a mocking kiss. Kaldur doesn’t dare close his eyes, watches the cold stare that laughs at him. Savage draws back, dragging his thumb slowly across Kaldur’s bottom lip. The gentleness of the gesture would be sweet, in someone else. If they were anyone else.

But this is Vandal Savage, leader of the Light. And he is Aqualad, perpetual thorn in the side and, until recently, one of the League’s rising stars.

“And I would not get such _personal_ satisfaction from your father,” Savage finishes, finally standing and pulling on the same heavy robe he had entered Kaldur’s quarters in two hours earlier. “Until next time,” he says lowly, and leaves.

Kaldur makes it to the toilet before the contents of his stomach upend themselves on the floor, but barely.

* * *

_four) the manta flyer_

 

“Tell me a story,” Artemis says, slipping into his room and curling her warm body close to his under the sheets. She whispers, soft enough that the bugs wont pick up what she says.

“What kind?” Kaldur asks, wrapping his hand over hers in the dark. He can’t twine his fingers with her--it's his nature to be seperate, cut off. It’s built into his skin.

She tucks warm toes in the cool space behind his knees, poking the tender flesh. She’s one of four people alive who knows he’s ticklish back there. There used to be five. “One that makes you happy.”

He hides a grimace in his pillow, tries to pull the stone corners of his mouth into a more agreeable shape. He thinks he’s found all the cameras his father has placed around the room, but he can’t be certain. And who would frown when his lover slips behind him in the dead of night?

“I can tell you one that ends well,” he says, and doesn’t think about the last time happiness had occurred to him.

* * *

_five) the watchtower_

 

“The time has come,” his King says, laying a gentle hand on his shoulder, “For us to update your uniform.”

“If it pleases my King,” Kaldur replies, and continues writing the fifth mission report of the night. He has seven more to complete, and only four more hours on this shift. He had started taking shifts at the Watchtower half a year ago, to help make up for all the Leaguers deployed across the galaxy.

“A name change is also in order,” his King continues, gently pulling until Kaldur turns to look at him. There was a time when Kaldur had to look up into those eyes, blue as all the Earth’s oceans.

“So the Council has decided,” Kaldur says shortly, burying the surge of pain in his chest beneath the waves, letting it drown. “I am no longer to be associated with the Crown, due to my trespasses.”

“You will no longer hold the mantle of Aqualad, yes,” King Orin replies, grave. “And it is because of your actions during the Invasion.”

“I understand,” Kaldur says. He doesn’t. Nine years of loyalty, of service. The world saved. Still not enough to throw off the shadow of his father. He wonders, briefly, if even death would have absolved him.

King Orin sighs, cradles Kaldur’s head in firm hands and presses a gentle kiss to his brow. “You lack faith, Kaldur’ahm.”

“I am needed at home,” Orin continues, placing his hands on Kaldur’s shoulders, proud as a father’s. “You, my son, are needed here. As Aquaman.”

Bile rises in Kaldur’s gut. It wars with the butterflies, drenches their hopeful wings and sends them plummeting. “Aquaman is not a title befitting a traitor.”

“The Council has lifted your exile,” Orin replies.

“The Crown does not have the power to force that,” Kaldur replies on automatic. Two years ago he never would have imagined speaking to his King like this.

Orin just smiles gently, squeezing Kaldur’s shoulder tight enough that the bone creaks. “You have more friends than you think.”

Four hours later Kaldur retires to the tiny dorm he’s kept in the Watchtower ever since the Invasion. He lies awake, staring at the metal ceiling. He cannot sleep, cannot dream. His thoughts are all of Atlantis, of the home he hasn’t seen in two years.

* * *

_\+ one) star city_

 

Kaldur wakes up to Will gently shaking his shoulder, waking him from the nap he was taking on the large couch that serves as his and Artemis’s ‘guest bed’ _._ “You know you don’t have to sleep on the couch, right?”

Kaldur sits up, squinting at Will with bleary eyes. He ended up staying the night after post-mission drinks with Will and Artemis. Life has been stressful for all of them, with the events of the Invasion and their own personal changes. Kaldur’s promotion. Jade’s absence and Will’s new name, new business. Artemis’s graduation.

_Wally._

Kaldur stretches, working a kink out of his shoulder. “I have slept in worse places.”

Will raises his hands, all mock surrender. “I’ll be upfront. These days I have a hard time falling asleep without someone else there.”

“According to Artemis, you have a very ‘cuddly’ daughter,” Kaldur replies, folding his hands neatly around his raised knees. He looks up at Will, brow cocked.

Will flushes, fingers fiddling with the drawstring of his sweats. “She’s been asleep for hours. And I just got her used to sleeping in her own bed.”

Kaldur quirks a smile. “I had _also_ been sleeping for hours.”

Will crosses his arms. “You’re not a two year old.”

Kaldur’s smile fades. His expression closes, becoming guarded. “We’ve had this conversation, my friend. There are better choices of pillow. Of partner.”

Will frowns. He drops his hands to his sides. His fingers twitch, arms tensing as he resists the urge to reach for the man in front of him. Kaldur is two feet away from him, at most, half dressed with crease lines pressed into his cheeks from sleeping on Will’s couch.

He might as well be a thousand miles away.

“No, there aren’t,” Will replies, meeting Kaldur’s frown with his own. “And that wasn’t a conversation. It was an ultimatum.”

Kaldur’s fingers dig into his knees, shoulders tensing. He doesn’t break eye contact. “It wouldn’t work.”

Will crosses his arms. “Not if we don’t try.”

Kaldur’s frown twists, familiar bitterness rising in his gut. “You’re married.”

Will scowls, arms tightening defensively. “Divorced.”

Kaldur’s hands twist in the blanket covering his legs. “But you still want her in your life.”

Understanding crosses Will’s expression. His arms relax. Slowly, he steps around to kneel next to the couch. He reaches for Kaldur, cautiously setting his hand on a bare shoulder.

Kaldur turns, staring resolutley at the opposite wall, out the open bay window. There’s a full moon out, lighting the quiet street outside. The grass of the lawn is silver in the moonlight.

Will’s voice is soft, his palm warm against Kaldur’s skin. “She’s Lian’s mom. And I care about her. I’ll always want her in my life.” His hand tightens, thumb smoothing against the dip of Kaldur’s collarbone. “But I want you by my side.”

Kaldur covers Will’s hand with his own. He means to remove it from his shoulder, to push the warmth of his palm away. But Will turns his hand, presses his fingertips against Kaldur’s. His other hand settles low on Kaldur’s back, slides slowly up the knobs of his spine until Will is cupping the back of Kaldur’s head, turning him gently to look at him.

Kaldur could resist. Instead he looks back into those blue eyes. Eyes he’s loved through everything. Addiction, heartbreak, betrayal. Invasion, war, exile, isolation. Every rocky shore Kaldur has tried to break himself upon.

Will’s eyes hold Kaldur’s own as he draws him in, closing the distance between them. Will presses his forehead to Kaldur’s, his breath splashing warm on Kaldur’s cheeks.

Kaldur allows himself a breath. Allows himself another. “I don’t know how to give you what you want,” he says softly. “I don’t know how to be someone who does... _this_.”

Will leans in closer. Kaldur can feel his words more than he can hear them, soft lips and rough stubble against his cheek. “This?”

Kaldur pulls his hand from Will’s, wraps his arms around the other man’s neck. “Relationships.”

Will smiles, his teeth pressing soft into Kaldur’s skin. “You mean vulnerability.”

Kaldur doesn’t answer, simply pulls Will closer until his nose is buried in the other man’s neck.

“Maybe it's time to try letting someone else be the strong one,” Will says quietly, rubbing Kaldur’s back gently with his free hand.

Kaldur’s hands tighten against Will’s shoulders. “I don’t know how,” he says, soft voice muffled against Will’s bare skin.

Will presses a kiss behind Kaldur’s ear. He shifts his arms, one wrapping under Kaldur’s arms as the other scooped under his knees. “Let me show you,” he says. “Let me try.”

Kaldur nods. Will smiles, kissing Kaldur’s brow as he stands up, lifting Kaldur into his arms.

The stairs prove to be a challenging, but Will has come a long way since his days looking for Speedy. He manages the stairs only a little out of the breath.

“You’re heavier than you used to be,” Will grumbles, bumping the door to his bedroom open with his hip.

Kaldur laughs, helplessly. Something in his chest is rising like a balloon on a summer breeze, irrepressible and warm. He squirms one hand between them, prodding Will in the softness of his stomach. “I am not the only one.”

Will chuckles, leaning down to press a kiss against Kaldur’s mouth. Kaldur can feel when Will’s smile pulls back into a wicked grin, right before he’s suddenly airborne.

Kaldur lands on Will’s bed with a huff of breath, eyes wide in shock. “Did you just throw me?”

Will smiles at him, crossing his arms. “Did you just make fun of my dad bod?”

Kaldur’s expression goes blank for a second, before he’s overcome with laughter. It hurts his stomach. It’s unfamiliar, overwhelming. It's wonderful. When was the last time he had _laughed_?

Will grins, climbing on the bad to silence Kaldur’s laughter with kisses. “Shhh,” he cautions, arms wrapping around Kaldur, drawing him close and pressing their bare chests together. “You’ll wake Lian.”

Kaldur returns the embrace, settling against Will. He chuckles, once, more quietly. “Or worse, Artemis.”

Will kisses him again, presses their smiles together. “Don’t joke. She’s a monster when you interrupt her beauty sleep.”

They both laugh a little more, quietly, muffling the noise in one another’s shoulders.

Kaldur looks up, hope high in his chest settling as the enormity of the night settles over him. His whole life is changing, in this moment. Every assumption he’s made about himself, about the possibility of love, of this, has been sent crashing to the floor in the early morning dark.

“Tell me this isn’t a mistake,” he says, as Will looks up from where he was pressing kisses into the bare skin of Kaldur’s shoulders. “Tell me I won’t wake up in the morning and run away from this.”

Will takes a breath, squeezes Kaldur tighter to him. “Every time you’ve pushed me away I’ve let you,” he says quietly. “I won’t do that again. Not this time.”

Kaldur leans in, presses one more kiss to Will’s mouth, warm and lingering. “Thank you.”

Will’s eyes are soft. “Don’t thank me until the morning. Artemis is going to have a field day with this.”

Kaldur smiles, thinking of Raquel and a night they shared, years ago. “She won’t be the only one.”

Will kisses him, one more time, before he urges Kaldur to turn in his arms, spooning behind him. “Brave new world, tomorrow.”

Kaldur covers Will’s hand where it settles around his middle, squeezing it tight. “I look forward to it.”

And then he slept.


End file.
